


Let Me Show You How I Feel

by JaeJaeBees



Series: Thomas needs to get a grip [2]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Romantic Stuff, angsty fluff, not exactly one sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4920133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaeJaeBees/pseuds/JaeJaeBees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas wants to curse whoever is waking him up at three in the morning, until he finds that person is his teary-eyed best friend.</p>
<p>Basically, Newt gets dumped and goes to Thomas for comfort and secrets end up told.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>UPDATE: As per request, I wrote a prequel to this fic. I put them in a series to make it easier to get from one to the other, go read the prequel!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Show You How I Feel

**Author's Note:**

> So, I kind of just recently got into the Maze Runner. and since I'm blocked on my Doctor Who fic, currently. I've been working on random Maze Runner drabbles, and my OTP is obviously Newt and Thomas. Because Thomas Brodie Sangster is bae. but yea....enjoy. or not...it's up to you.

The knock on the door startled Thomas awake. He groaned, rubbing his eyes and glancing at the bright green display, showing that it was almost three in the morning. He grumbled, searching for his pants in the darkness even as another hurried thump pounded against the door.

“Yeah, yeah, hold your horses. I'm coming!” He yelled to the insistent pounding. “I'm coming!”

He nearly tripped trying to get his pants on and walk to the door at the same time, making plans to curse whoever had woken him up in the middle of the night. He tugged the black sweats up around his waist, not even bothering with a shirt. It was probably one of his stupid friends, Minho or Alby, having spent the night partying and needing a place to crash so their parents wouldn't freak out about them coming home at three in the morning smelling like alcohol and sex. Not with each other, Thomas hoped, at least. He didn't need that mental image in his head in the middle of the night.

The door swung open with the first words of a curse on his lips, only be to halted by the view in front of him. His best friend.

“Newt.” The name fell lamely off Thomas's lips.

The tall boy hunched over, his black jacket slicked with raindrops. His blonde hair clinging to his face, damp and curling ever so slightly at the ends. Thomas had gotten so caught up how good Newt looked, white t-shirt clinging to his chest beneath his jacket and mussed hair all in his face, he almost failed to notice that not all the droplets of water on Newt's face were rain.

The boy sniffled, his eyes rimmed in red. He'd been crying, it showed in the hoarseness of his voice. “Hey...Thomas.”

“Newt, what the hell, man?” He stumbled for words, already wrapping his hand around the other boy's fraile wrist and pulling him inside. “You're gonna catch your death out there.”

Newt stumbled forward, letting the other boy drag him into the small kitchen. Thomas grabbed a towel and dropped it over Newt's head, gently drying the water out of his hair. Really, he just knew that Newt didn't want Thomas to see him crying and gave the other boy an out to cover his face.

“Come on, let's get you out of those wet clothes.” Thomas spoke gently. “Then we can talk, yeah?”

Newt nodded mutely.

The next few minutes were spent with Thomas waiting outside the bathroom door while Newt took a warm shower and changed into some of Thomas's clothes. The grey sweats were a little shorter on the tall boy than he needed, and the muscular boy's shirt hung lose off the thinner boy's shoulders. Thomas licked his lips, feeling bad about the way his eyes lingered on that soft expanse of creamy skin that was exposed to him. Newt's collarbone looked extremely tempting, but Thomas restrained himself.

They found themselves on Thomas's couch. Newt curled up into a ball, grabbing one of the little pillows off the floor. Thomas smiled at the sight of the lanky boy curled up around the little pillow. He tossed the boy a blanket and dropped down on the cushion next to him.

“So what's up, Newt?” He asked. “What brought you crying to my doorstep at three in the morning?”

Newt chewed his lip for a moment before responding. “He dumped me...”

Thomas would have been lying he he said his heart didn't feel just the smallest bit lighter at the statement. He'd been in love with Newt for as long as he could remember knowing the other boy, and that was a hell of a long time. Newt just didn't feel the same way, and Thomas was perfectly fine to just stay friends. Even if that meant sitting by and watching as Newt got his heart broken by boy after boy after boy.

“Want me to punch him in the face?” He realized he'd been quiet for a little too long and the joking, well only half joking, statement was the first thing he could think to say.

Newt slapped at his arm, but the smile only lasted a moment before another defeated sniffled overcame the boy. Thomas hated seeing Newt so hurt. It made his veins burn and gave him an overwhelming desire to just wrap his arms around the boy and beg him for a chance. At least Newt would know that Thomas wouldn't hurt him...

Thomas shook the thoughts from his head and shuffled to make himself comfortable next to the other boy, resting his head on Newt's shoulder. “What happened?”

He could feel the whimper as it escaped the boy's lips. “He just...left. He said...”

Thomas pulled back when Newt paused and didn't continued, looking at the boy with a careful expression. “What did he say to you? Was it bad? Did he hurt you?”

Newt's eyes widened, but he shook his head. “No! No, of course not...nothing like that...he just...he said he was tired of competing to be the most important thing in my life..”

Thomas sighed, he'd have killed the guy that night if he'd put a hand on his precious Newt.

“I mean, I tried to explain to him that law school is hard...” Newt sniffled, moving on the couch so that he was laying down, his head in Thomas's lap. Thomas started to play with Newt hair, running his fingers through the blonde strands. The two were close, but it was rare that Thomas got to show Newt physical affection. The other boy seemed almost scared of it. Thomas would file this away in his box of memories for rehashing later when he was alone and could mope about his crush later.

“If he doesn't understand that your studies have to come first, then he's just the wrong kind of guy for you.” Thomas offered, daring to trace his finger over the rim of Newt's ear. He felt the boy tense a little in his lap and he moved back, just content to play with the curling tips of the blonde locks.

Newt was silent for a long time. Thomas knew that the other boy was crying again. His heart broke for the other boy. He only wanted to see Newt happy and anyone that made his best friend cry deserved the worst death ever.

“What's wrong with me, Tommy?” Newt's voice came out barely above a whimper and Thomas almost didn't hear what he said over the rumble of his own thoughts.

“The hell?” He muttered. “There's not a damn thing wrong with you. Why would you think that?”

Newt sniffled, pushing himself up out of Thomas's lap. He wiped a tear off his cheek and looked down at his hands. “Everyone always leaves me...” Newt started speaking softly, his voice wavering. “I can't even make someone stay longer than a few months. What does that say about me, Tommy?” The boy looked up to meet Thomas's eyes with desperation in his own. “I can't even make someone want me...”

Thomas hesitated. Did Newt really believe that? But it was the farthest thing from true. Newt had made Thomas want him, and had kept him wanting him for seven years now. How could this beautiful, passionate, kind, smart, wonderful human being think he was anything less that perfect?

Thomas found himself reaching for Newt's hands without giving himself permission. When the other boy started to pull his hands back, Thomas reached out and pulled his hands back. He wouldn't let Newt get away that easy, and he needed to make sure that the boy understood he meant what he was about to say a thousand times over. Newt refused to meet Thomas's eyes.

“Newt, listen to me.” Thomas started softly. “There is nothing at all wrong with you. Nothing. You are the most amazing, most wonderful, most caring person I have ever met in my life.”

Newt looked up at Thomas from beneath his lashes, a little startled at the words, hesitancy in his eyes.

Thomas continued, speaking softly as his thumbs traced circles on Newt's warm hands. It had been so long since they'd held hands that Thomas could hardly recall the soft velvet of the boy's skin and the tiny fingers that curled into his own palms. “You are perfection and you don't deserve any less than that. If he couldn't see what he was giving up, then that means there's something wrong with him, not with you.”

Newt chewed his lower lip thoughtfully, his eyes burning holes in there intertwined hands. After a moment, he spoke. His voice soft, an almost teasing in his voice. “You...think I'm perfect?”

Thomas wanted to laugh. Roll on the floor, holding onto his stomach, until his lungs burned and his eyes watered laugh. Instead, he licked his lips and nodded. “Of course I do, haven't you ever seen yourself?”

At this, Newt pulled his hands from Thomas's grasp and his stomach lurched. Had he said something wrong? Had he done something that upset Newt?

Newt let out a bitter chuckle. “I know you're my best friend, Tommy, and you're supposed to comfort me, but you don't have to lie to me.”

Thomas blinked, “What?”

Newt shot Thomas a look that the boy could almost call a glare. “Perfect?”

Thomas stopped, looking at Newt. Then he looked away. The knot in his stomach had bunched in so tightly he was afraid it would snap at any moment. Thomas wasn't sure why the words came out of his mouth, but Newt had challenged him. Thomas needed to make Newt see his perfection.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you, Newt? What everyone sees when they look at you?” Thomas licked his lips, glancing up to see Newt nod curiously.

“The moonlight puts a halo in your blonde hair, it catches the little curls just at the end, there.” Thomas reached up and flipped one of the curls around his finger. He chuckled when Newt slapped his hand away with a glare. Thomas kept speaking. “And sometimes, like now, when the light hits those big brown eyes of yours, it turns them this surreal shade of amber. And that shirt should be too big for you, but the way it falls just a little bit off your shoulder so that little freckle just below your collarbone will show, looks like the shirt was tailor made just so that you could curl up with your long legs and your arms wrapped around that little pillow like it's a teddy bear.”

Thomas paused, searching Newt's face, his expression, for any sense that the words were sinking in to Newt, because Thomas knew that he was entirely outting himself at this moment. There was no way Newt wouldn't realize how Thomas felt at this point, and so he just took a deep breath and kept talking. This time not about his looks, but about his personality.

“You study too much because you're worried that you'll lose your scholarship, but that won't happen because you're the smartest person in your class. And people think you're a prude because you don't go out a lot and you don't break rules, ever. But you're not a prude, you're actually really laid back. You just don't think that going out every night and getting trashed is fun. You love to cook because your mom used to cook with you on the weekends before you two fell out, and you never forgave your dad for it.” Those words caused Newt's expression to fall, but Thomas quickly added more.

“You've never before let the problems of your past affect your future, or your present. You're the strongest person I know, and the kindest. You know exactly when you need to be tough and exactly when you need to be caring, and when you care you can throw your whole heart into it. You give like you've got all the world to toss away and you don't even expect a thank you in return. You put up with my bullshit, god only knows why.” Thomas chuckled. “The point is, Newt. That if some jack ass with his fancy moterbike and his stupid guitar can't tell that you're worth giving up the world for, then that jack ass never deserved you in the first place.”

When Thomas had finally finished speaking, he paused, chewing on his lower lip. He couldn't bring himself to look up at Newt's face and see his expression, but the other boy hadn't pulled his hand away from Thomas's own yet, so there was at least that.

The silence that engulfed them made the hairs on the ends of Thomas's neck stand up. Tension filled the room, or at least for Thomas. He had no idea what the other boy was thinking, and his mind would only come up with the worst possible scenarios. What if Newt realized how Thomas felt and hated him for it?

“Newt...” Thomas's voice was barely above a whisper. “Would you...just...say something?”

Newt's voice wavered, stuck in his throat. “Tommy...”

Here it comes, Thomas thought, the rejection. He could feel the stab in his heart and the tightness in his stomach at the impending heartbreak.

“Look at me.” Thomas couldn't deny the boy anything. He pulled his eyes up from their still intwined hands to Newt's face.

The boy's brow had furrowed together, a small curious frown set in his face. Thomas inwardly panicked. Shit, he'd fucked things up really bad. He hadn't just grossed Newt out, he'd pissed him off.

Newt spoke again, his voice careful and measured, betraying no hint of the emotions that Thomas wished were there. The boy could be a stone wall when he wanted to be, Thomas had always admired that about Newt, but right now he hated it. “How do you feel about me?”

Thomas had known that it was coming, that Newt had figured him out. He just hadn't expected the boy to actually ask him about it. Maybe he could still salvage this friendship before Newt totally hated him.

“You're my best friend, Newt.” He responded carefully.

Newt's eyes fell from Thomas's, looking around the room before he turned back to Thomas's face. “You know that's not a proper answer.”

Thomas chewed his lip, staring holes in the wall behind Newt's head. He didn't know what to say, and if he'd started to piece together words they were thrown right out of his mind at Newt's next words.

“If you can't tell me how you feel about me, then could you show me?” Thomas turned wide, shocked eyes at Newt, finding that the boy was hiding behind his hair, his face turned just so that Thomas couldn't quite see the expression there, but the hint of a blush.

Fuck, Thomas thought. This boy is going to be my undoing. But Thomas could never say no to Newt. So he took a deep breath, steeled himself, and reached out with his free hand to turn Newt's face towards him.

“Alright.” He muttered quietly. “But remember, you asked. So when I'm done...just don't hate me.”

The expression on Newt's face was confused, but then shock registered on his face as Thomas leaned in and connected their lips. It wasn't like Thomas had always imagined, this definitely wasn't the ideal situation for confessing and kissing. He could taste the tears on Newt's lips.

The other boy didn't respond to the kiss at first and Thomas's heart fell, but Newt had told him to show him how he felt. Thomas shifted closer, getting a better angle. Newt's soft cheek warmed under his hand and Thomas closed his eyes, his lips moving tenderly over the other boy's. He did his best to express his feelings through the kiss.

When Newt started to kiss back, Thomas felt his heart burst out through his rib cage. He smiled just the smallest bit as his lips moved gingerly against the other boys. It honestly wasn't like any kiss Thomas had ever had before. There was no taste of alcohol, no lust filled desires that needed to be filled at that moment. There was just Newt, and Thomas kissing him like he that the rest of the time in the world to memorize the boy's lips.

When they pulled away, breathless, Thomas gave a hesitant smile. “The way your lips turn just a little darker red when they're swollen from kissing...” He muttered, not even sure why he was still talking anymore. “Gotta add that to the list of reasons you're perfect.”

Newt blushed, full on bright red from the neck to the tops of his ears. One of his hands came up to hide his lips from view. Thomas couldn't help but find himself smiling dumbly.

“Well, at least you don't seem to hate me...” He muttered.

“Why would I ever hate you?” Newt cocked an eyebrow, genuinely confused.

Thomas looked away. “Because...how I feel and...well...I don't want to be a burden just cause you don't like me back...and...”

“Wait..what?” Newt blinked for a moment, and Thomas looked at him with bewildered brown eyes. His expression turned to confusion when Newt softened, his smile returning. “Tommy, I want...to show you how I feel about you too.”

Thomas just nodded, confused and hopeful, his eyes wide with anticipation as Newt moved closer to him and captured his lips once more. Thomas kissed back immediately. This kiss was even better than the first one, if Thomas could judge. Just as gentle and loving as the other, but tinged with a need, a strong desire to be close that overwhelmed Thomas.

 


End file.
